


Aiding Angel

by OhBelieveYouMe



Category: Leap of Faith - Menken/Slater/Cercone
Genre: F/M, Jonas gets used, Romance, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-15 03:45:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10549522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhBelieveYouMe/pseuds/OhBelieveYouMe
Summary: Per promptHEREre: headcanons with a girl who only likes to see Jonas to be showered in affections / who knows what he’s up to and is acting all flirty and coy with him?





	

\- She was one of those free-spirit types; afraid of spiders and the dark, but not of getting into cars with strangers. There was no shame in her soul, but she had a heart of gold that shone brightly through the blonde in her curls and the sparkle in her eyes.

\- She had wandered into a Revival one evening and caught his eye, but he knew right away that he was cellophane compared to her stare. His fancy clothes and silver tongue didn’t impress her one bit, and Jonas could swear he actually felt the Holy Spirit when she shook his hand.

 _\- “What’s your name, sister?” Jonas loved greeting new parishioners, taking a chance to read their souls while meeting palms._  
_\- Her eyes narrowed, and she curiously cocked her head to the side. Pink cheeks were smudged with dirt, and he noted how thin she was when she lazily held out her hand- he could tug her closer by curling fingers around tight about her wrist. “You can call me whatever, Mister.”_  
 _\- So this was the game they were playing? With his free hand, he pat at her knuckles, and gathered up her fist in his. “Well, if I had to decide, I’d call you an angel…”_  
 _\- He expected a blush, or maybe even a coy giggle: fat chance. Instead, a brow bounced, and she pat at the lapels of his suit while tisking her tongue. “You should count your blessings, Reverend.” Boldly, she took her hands back and poked a fingertip to his nose; “‘Cause a man of God would know better than that.”_  
 _\- As she sauntered off, he watched after her, and chewed the inside of his lip. No shoes, and the soles of her feet were dirty. A bag hung low at her side, the pouch hit her thigh as she walked- he lived out of a suitcase and a bus, it was obvious to a like soul that most of her possessions were likely tucked away in that satchel. Her dress was long, kissed the gold jewelry around her ankles, and was sullied at the hem- how long had she been wearing that?_  
 _\- Jonas wasn’t sure, but he definitely would love to learn what was hidden underneath… both that cool exterior and those cotton skirts._

* * *

\- Though the Revival was a roaring success, and they had received enough 'tithes’ to hold themselves over for the next night, Jonas couldn’t help but notice how his _Angel_ lingered. At first, he wondered if perhaps something had come over her: she had appeared at least amused whenever he noticed her in the crowd. After the last of the townsfolk left, he finally meandered her way, with hands dug deep in his own pockets.

 _\- In greeting, she offered only an amused smirk and a golf clap. “Quite a fan of the theatrics, aren’t you, Reverend Nightingale?”_  
_\- It’d be condescending to suggest she was wrong. “I’m a fan of a lot of things, Honey,” instead of ushering her out of the tent, Jonas happily slid into the seat next to her. Elbow propped on the back of her chair, cheek held up by his palm, and he managed to lean in so he hovered precariously close to her pretty face._  
 _\- “Mmm, oh really?” Unblushingly, the lovely young woman used his leg as leverage and splayed her fingers out atop his knees so she could move in closer. “Gotta say, I found myself quite smitten with your singalong,” her simper persisted, and Jonas found himself wondering what her lipgloss would taste like. “What else do you enjoy, Rev?”_  
 _\- Well, if she wanted to know, he’d love to tell her all about it. “I’m also quite fond of good food and good company,” he squint when he noticed the corners of her lips twitch upwards, “why don’t we discuss further over dinner?”_

\- Luckily for him, just as he thought, she was not the kind to turn down a free meal…

\- That night, she didn’t ask to stay, but the way she shamelessly slithered her hand along his thigh as they shared a bench at a nice little restaurant he had found made Jonas hope she would. Over conversation and stiff drinks, he learned plenty more than he would have if left to depend on his own abilities.

\- His Angel was a drifter, hitchhiked across the country and depended on the kindness of others and the elements to make it through. She didn’t believe in God, but firmly entrusted her soul to Karma. The stars were her life’s road map, she carried pepper spray with her knife at all times, and her favorite color was _red._

\- Jonas had told her how _red_ was the color of passion, of love: she explained how to her it meant just that and so much more- it was ‘the color of extremes’.

\- By the end of their meal, with his palm slipping further up the slit in her dress, Jonas was _begging_ her to join him at the shady motel he had rented down the block.

\- Luckily for him, he was right again; she was not the kind to turn down a free bed for the night.

* * *

\- Typically, when women left was his favorite part, gave him a chance to reflect and rest. Yet, when his Angel giggled and rolled over to sit up at the edge of the bed, he curled a heavy arm around her waist to try and keep her still. 

 _\- “You act like you got somewhere to go,” the taunt was accentuated by him using her to pull himself nearer. To her hip, then the smooth skin of her side, he lay fumbling kisses and smiled against a bruise. Her pale skin was littered with marks, some left by their careless carnal romping but most were there before he had ever unwrapped her; her body was an illustrated novel of all her adventures. “You’d rather sleep under a bridge than in bed with me?”_  
_\- Loudly, she scoffed, and stood up even as he tried to stop her. “I’d rather get nearer to somewhere with a benevolent stranger who might offer breakfast in the morning, Rev.” Her fingers skimmed his scalp, and he shut his eyes while taking comfort in her combing through his hair, like a pup who didn’t get pet enough. “You’ve been a doll, truly. But a lady’s gotta think ahead.”_  
 _\- A doll, all he could think of were Sam’s toys from when she was younger. A play thing, ha! Though he did release her, Jonas did not offer her solitude to slither back into the dress he had slid off her form moments after making it back to the room. “Why bother with a stranger when you’ve got a benevolent bishop?”_  
 _\- With a coquettish look over her shoulder, his Angel smiled, and the grip on her bag’s strap loosened just slightly. “You sayin’ you’ve got enough kindness left in your blessed lil’ heart to keep me around for a night?”_  
 _- “And for coffee in the morning…” Realizing he may actually succeed, Jonas rocked up to sitting so he could lean back against the headboard. “If you’ve got enough kindness left to lose that gown and come back to bed…”_  
 _\- At that, she obliged, and went to undoing the buttons she had so ardently re-clasped just moments before. The dress pooled at her feet, and she wasted no time crawling back towards him: bare, beautiful, and bearing a bounty of blessed kisses for his throat, chest, jaw line. “Anything you say, Reverend.”_

* * *

\- Jonas found himself enjoying her company more than he had ever expected; he didn’t have to keep up an act with her, it was oddly relaxing to not need to watch his tongue- not that there was any time, she had plenty to talk about on her own. No need to waste energy on looking below her surface: she eagerly indulged his every curiosity and filled the silence with stories of her travels. In the same vein of thought, he actually found himself able to trust her- how could she have anything to hide when she was so able to share her secrets without a blush?  

\- The next morning, he did indeed take her for breakfast. When she tried to wander off without so much as a ‘goodbye’ after eating, he truly did try to let her go; but something pulled him after her. Was it fate, that silly Karma she had spent so long chatting about the evening before? He wasn’t sure, but while lying to others came with the job he’d chosen to live, Jonas was not the type to deny himself of whatever he wanted. 

\- Her scowl certainly surprised him, though.

 _\- “Where you headed, Angel?” He looped pinkies with her, and her brows furrowed at the subtle affection._  
_\- ‘Skeptical’ wouldn’t even begin to explain the look on her face. “What’re you suggestin’, Reverend?” Her lips pursed to a pout, and Jonas gladly took the chance to guide her back towards the direction of the tent. Just as she did most everything, she went with his flow, and didn’t protest being led whichever way he chose._  
 _- “I’m suggestin’ you stick around,” at least for a little longer. “I think you’re pretty swell…”_  
 _\- Her nose crunched, and he didn’t wait for her to agree before continuing their now conjoined trek back his motel. “I s’pose a little longer wouldn’t hurt,” she still sounded suspicious, but slid her thumb into one of his belt loops while trotting beside him._  
 _\- At her acceptance, Jonas smirked, and leaned in to press his nose against her cheek. “I think I have a great way to spend that lil’ longer, Angel…”_

* * *

\- After another night of Hallelujahs followed by him stealing away back to the motel with her in his arms; Jonas woke up alone. He had thought, well hoped, she’d stay again- at least keep him company until the con was over in that city. There was no time to be upset, though he did notice how his wallet was left open on the counter. Last thing he could recall was her asking if she could borrow some bucks to go get more wine, unfortunately for him; she must have taken it for herself.

\- No matter though, he was used to being left. Preferred it, typically, even if it left a bad taste in his mouth after the fact. Yet this time he felt cold, and couldn’t even bring himself to bother the waitress at the bar with a pickup line.

\- So, while trying his damnedest to push his sweet Angel from his thoughts with a final shot of whiskey; Jonas finished the third day of his Revival, and his crew was back on the road before those starry-eyed townsfolk even had a chance to realize what hit them.

* * *

\- A month or so later, while donning a smile crafted by seraphs and taking a moment to pray with an elderly woman working to open her clutch, Jonas caught sight of her again. Her hair; fire red and longer than it was before, he wondered what possessed her to dye those golden tresses he had curled around his fingers those nights in that shady motel. Still soulless down to her toes, she sauntered knowingly through the tent’s entrance and made no efforts to intervene in his time spent with the local woman hoping for her ills to be cured.

\- After the revival that evening, he practically dove for her, catching a fistful of her skirts before she managed to join in with the bustling crowd making their exit.

 _- “Where’ve you been, sister?” Though he expected a less than kindly greeting, Jonas was pleasantly surprised by the smile that came over her face. “Last time I saw you, you were headin’ to get more merlot.”_  
_\- Coyly, she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth while shrugging her shoulders. “I’ve been all over, Reverend, just a wanderin’ soul with nowhere to go.” After taking a very cautious look around to confirm they had been left alone, his Angel held onto the opening of his jacket and tugged herself up against him. “But if you’ve got a desire for some wine, perhaps I could join ya? There’s a real peach of a place around the corner… a little pub.” She rest her elbow against his shoulder, twirled a fingertip through his hair._  
 _\- Jonas hadn’t exactly planned on going out for drinks that night… but if she wanted to join him for a glass or four, who was he to refuse her? “I think that could be arranged… you already have a place to rest your head tonight?” Though he wouldn’t admit it, he bowed his chin to get a good whiff of her scent, lay his cheek momentarily against hers so he could whisper; “’Cause unless you got a better option, I could get a room.”_  
 _\- That smile he had only seen in his dreams for the past dreary weeks came back, he could feel her nod in agreement to his suggestion. “Sounds like a plan, if you’ve got the funds…”_

\- She knew he did, and he knew she knew. Fortunately for her, he didn’t mind.

\- Their drunken dance back to hotel played out much like it had last time. They abandoned their niceties with their clothes, spent hours exploring the other until neither of them could find the energy to tumble atop the sheets any longer- Jonas found new scars on her skin and she shared fantastical stories for each one. Whether they were truths or lies didn’t matter, he’d lay lips against the shining marks before moving on to examine more of her. 

\- He fell asleep around the same time the witching hour sent that familiar haze over the night, listening to her steady heart beat while she ran soothing palms up and down his spine. 

\- He woke up to a sickening deja vu: empty bed, open wallet on the dresser, and only a couple hundred missing out of the grand he had brought with him. Though disappointed, Jonas wasn’t surprised: but he did find himself praying to be visited by his illusive angel again. Hopefully sooner than later…

* * *

\- This time, the months went along as they always had: a new city every few weeks, lovely ladies to woo until he left for a new town, cold hard cash in his pocket after every successful haul. Living the dream- at least, the dream he had manifested for himself.

\- That is, until nearly half a year later, when Jonas noticed a waif of a woman with her thumb held out towards the street while his bus barrelled down the road. He recognized her, naturally: he’d be able to tell that pout apart from any hundreds he’s kissed before. Recklessly, he demanded the bus pull over, and waited knowingly at the door when she slung the familiar bag over her shoulder and ran that way.

 _\- Apparently she hadn’t been expecting him: “Well, Reverend Nightingale!” Her arms flew up into the air, and she wriggled her hips expectantly. “You gotta hug for a weary parishioner, or at least some room for her to hitch a ride?”_  
_\- His Angel. Of course, he had both, but instead of making the rest of the passengers wait for their belated greeting, Jonas reached down to curl long fingers around her wrist and pull her aboard. “Get on the bus, and I’ll show you exactly what all I’ve got for you, Angel.”_  
 _- “Where ya’ll headed, Reverend?” Her brows bounced, and she actually coddled closer to him upon realizing the rest of his congregation was watching them. “I’d, uh,” was she nervous? The way she stammered was new to him, he’d grown accustomed to her blinding confidence- but he hadn’t considered how their past rendezvous had been mostly kept between themselves. “I’d hate to be a bother, I can wait for the next car if you’d like.”_  
 _\- Defiantly, Jonas stood in the aisle between her and the exit. “No, don’t you worry- we’re not sure where we’re goin yet but you’re welcome to join us.”_  
 _\- She bit her lip, and turned to face him so she could whisper; “But what if I want off the bus before you get where you’re goin?”_  
 _\- For once, she left him confused. “Then we pull over and you go back to the open road.” Thoughtfully, he narrowed his gaze, and tried his best to read her the way he had done to so many others before. That confidence, the glow she usually had: why was it, in the sight of his companions, she faltered? “You don’t trust me?”_  
 _\- His Angel shook her head side to side, that wasn’t quite the problem. “Sorry, Rev, I’m just tired,” she fluttered her fingers and let him scoot her along towards the back of the bus with hands on her hips. “I prolly just need a rest, ya know…”_

\- After bundling her up in his bunk so she could take that snooze she apparently needed so badly, and leaving an uncharacteristically sweet smooch on her forehead, Jonas made his way back to where he knew he’d be able to find his dear sister. During his stroll, he tried to conjure an explanation, some way to woo Sam to actually _not_  protest over his friend joining them for the drive.

\- Surprisingly, he wasn’t confronted, not even when he took a silent seat alongside her. Instead, to his bewilderment, her eyes held pity instead of the annoyance he had grown so familiar with.

 _- “Is that her?” Sam asked it gently, in no more than a whisper. What gave it away? He had only briefly described her before, or so he thought; his sultry lil’ angel with an abundance of soul even without soles on her feet. “Jonas, you know she’ll probably just leave again, right? You start carin’ too much about people and you become a welcome mat- you’re a sap, Jonas.”_  
_\- What if she was right? Actually, even more troublesome: why did he know she was? Instead of indulging her with a discussion, or giving her the glory of knowing she managed to ‘get’ to him, Jonas rose right back up to his feet. “Then it looks like I better enjoy the time I get, huh sis?”_  
 _- “She’s usin’ you, Jonas-” Sam wouldn’t follow after him, or try to change his mind. Something told her she wouldn’t need to anyway, it seemed as if he already agreed._

\- His Angel rode with them to the next town, a couple hundred miles that would have likely worn her feet to the bone if she had needed to traverse them herself. While she hitched her ride, Jonas took full advantage of the proximity he had so dearly missed: buried his face in her hair, slid his hands over her skin, went searching for new bruises and knicks so she’d relay tales of the adventures she had during her absence. He fell asleep that night coiled tightly around her, keeping her trapped up with him so he could hopefully guarantee her presence in the morning.

* * *

\- After setting up for their first Revival in the new city, Jonas went bounding back on the bus to gather up his little angel, or at least to see if there was anything she needed before he’d find himself preoccupied. His heart fell through his chest, though, when he made it back to find his bunk empty. Knowingly, he dug for where he had shoved her bag: gone, just like her.

\- After a stern kick to the wall, he grunted his frustration, then laced his fingers behind his head before slowly meandering his way back to the stairs.

\- Apparently she’d already flown off… again.

* * *

\- And so it would go; two lost souls who became star-crossed lovers. One had only herself to give and the other took care of the rest. Whenever his Angel found her path crossed with the Reverend, he’d use the Revival’s funds to get a room for them to spend time together and wouldn’t take his hands off of her until she disappeared just as mysteriously as she always arrived. 

\- Every moment she’d stick around was one he learned to cherish: maybe he didn’t believe in Heaven or Hell, but he believed in Nirvana with her.

\- He stopped expecting her to stay after the umpteenth time he thought his heart would break, and likewise, managed to eventually cease being disappointed. Instead, he found himself growing giddy whenever he found her face hidden in the crowds: the specter of salvation he so often searched for.

\- Jonas’ open arms were always there for her, and she knew it, grew to depend on it whenever she noticed that tent in whatever town she had wandered into.

\- Whenever she’d walk his way, he’d lace their fingers so she couldn’t easily escape off. If she was near, he kept her close, and proudly plied her with food and drinks so she’d tell him about the last city she had explored while he kept his palm on her thigh.

\- Still, even after months apart and ongoing years of their periodical contact: Jonas always thought of his angel when he saw shades of _red_.


End file.
